


Clive attends a moot but it was written for a class

by general_ike



Series: Edited Clive Chronicles [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: CLIVE YEAH BUDDY, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, i memed too much, other characters to be added maybe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/general_ike/pseuds/general_ike
Summary: ...... I edited parts of Clive attends a moot I'm so sorry pls forgive





	Clive attends a moot but it was written for a class

Farkas helped me get up for the first few days of the Moot. Nobles and other people were watching us the entire time. He decided to stand off to the side to make sure nothing bad happened to me. The other Jarls kept referring to me as Thongvor, though I don’t look at all like him. We were all seated at a table in a debate hall within the walls of the city called Solitude. 

“Clive’s just really a last minute step in for Thongvor. Thongvor had some family matters to attend to and said he wouldn’t be able to make it. He will most likely be here for the voting part, but for now it’s Clive. Clive’s got the notes from Thongvor telling what the Reach needs to have covered during this,” Ulfric said, “anyways, we should all have a chance to vote. Leila; you go first.”

Apparently, Leila’s the Jarl in charge of a hold in the southeast of Skyrim called the Rift. It’s capital is Riften, which is known for the presence of the Thieves’ Guild. The Guild doesn’t give Riften the best possible reputation, but it’s not as bad as Winterhold.

“He can’t vote if he’s not a Jarl!” one of the other Jarls, named Siddgeir, taunted.

Siddgeir is the Jarl in charge of the central southmost hold called Falkreath. Falkreath is the capital. It isn’t known for much, though there was a dragon attack in one of the villages within the hold. Siddgeir was hardly interested in any current events going on. He apparently just wanted to benefit Falkreath as a whole, and not the rest of Skyrim.

“Clive can vote! He’s just Thongvor Silver-Blood’s replacement. It’s fine!” Balgruuf retorted. 

I cared little for Skyrim politics, and for what happens within the borders of this country. Though it made me feel like this, it also felt like home. I felt like I cared about the people living here, big and small, Jarl or not. Balgruuf and Farkas were really the first two friends that I had ended up making when I first arrived; and they both felt like family. 

What did it matter, anyways? I wasn’t here to argue. I zoned out everybody’s arguing, until I realized the room was dead silent and everyone was staring at me. One Jarl informed me that it was my turn to vote. 

“We want your opinion on whether Ulfric should be High King or not. Not Thongvor’s opinion in the matter, just your own,” one of the other Jarls told me, “it’s all that really matters.” 

“If my opinion matters so much, then why do I need _THESE_?” I asked angrily, throwing the papers into the fire in the center of the room. Continuing on, I added, “it seems like the opinion of the people in this country does not matter to the higher-ups. That includes you guys. What would people think if laws just drastically changed? I don’t think people would be in favor of them. What if, after all this is over, certain races get discriminated on? It would make certain groups seem superior and above the law in comparison to those that are being discriminated. Has anyone thought of that? There will be consequences if this goes through fully.”

At this point, I was standing up. I turned and stormed out the door. Galmar started to chase after me as I ran, though Farkas had to cause a distraction for Galmar so I could get farther ahead. After about an hour of hard running, I stopped. I figured I needed a break, so I sat down by the river. Guessing that Galmar is much older than me, it’d take him more time to figure out where I was. After about twenty minutes sitting by the river, I heard footsteps close by. Immediately, I stood up with my weapon drawn, only to realize it was Farkas. 

“Ulfric told me he wanted to give you this. It seems urgent and important, so I’d recommend reading it soon. Ulfric seemed to want you to come back to the Moot, as well. He said your questions seem important and wanted to make sure that they were answered.”

I read the note. It told me to come back and that Ulfric had something important to discuss with me. 

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll come back, just to learn what Ulfric has to say to me. Nothing else.”

Just this once, I was following someone else’s orders. I wanted to punch someone or something as soon as I saw Ulfric again. He’d infuriated me enough for a lifetime. 

“This way, Clive,” Ulfric said to me. “We have something important to discuss.”

“It’d better be as important as you’re making it seem. Also, it better not be a waste of my time.”

“I know that you’re quite angry with me, but just hear me out,” he started. After a pause that felt like forever, he continued, “those Zofians that raised you were not your real parents.”

I growled, while asking under my breath, “Then who is? You’re telling me that I’ve been lied to my entire life, and I never knew about it?” I started to cry softly.

Ulfric took a couple steps forward and hugged me. At this point, I was sobbing. Ulfric tried calming me down, until Galmar walked in. 

“Galmar, I told him the first part….”

“Ulfric, I think he’s figured it out, a little bit. You shouldn’t worry about it too much. He probably understands. I know that when he stormed out, he did seem to have a lot of anger directed at you. I was blocked from going near him by his friend, though I assume they came up with this plan.” 

All my crying had caused me to pass out. I knew I was too tired to have wasted time walking back. Ulfric had to carry me up the stairs to a free bedroom so I could get some sleep. The arrow wounds from Stormcloak soldiers firing at me earlier in the day were still bleeding. I occasionally woke up to cough up blood, though it didn’t keep me up for long. 

I woke up the following day to my leg bandaged up and Ulfric asking me if I felt any better. I glared at him for a brief second before attempting to get up. I refuse to be cooped up all day like a dog. Making my way outside became quite the task as soon as I limp closer to the stairs.

Galmar looked up and saw me just standing there. 

“Well, Clive, how do you expect to get down? Climbing down, maybe?” he asked, not noticing my bandaged leg.  
Ulfric soon appeared behind me and picked me up and just carried me down. Galmar found it amusing that Ulfric would do it for me, and not for anyone else. 

“Giving Clive the special treatment, huh, Ulfric?” Galmar said jokingly. I could tell by the way in his voice. 

“Stormcloak archers got him in the leg yesterday when returning with that Companions member. It wasn’t bleeding badly ‘till he passed out,” Ulfric said.

Ulfric showed me the way outside, though I honestly would much rather be eating. I was given some food, as well as the instruction to find him later. I nodded, and soon began looking around Solitude. This city is nice, I’ll give it that. I nervously started to look around for familiar faces before walking. I limped down the ramp that leads to the lower part of the city, when Farkas came up to me. 

“I don’t want to know what happened to your leg, but how’s the situation with Ulfric? Any better than when I had left? I heard the two of you talking from outside the room.”

“Yeah, everything between Ulfric and I is fine now. Don’t worry about it, Farkas.”

I expected most of the men and women that fought under Ulfric’s cause to accept that I actually am related to him. They unfortunately did not expect or accept it until Ulfric explained the circumstances. Old friends of his knew about it beforehand, much like Galmar knew once I arrived in Windhelm. 

‘Galmar must not have taken a good look at me on the way over to Windhelm from Whiterun,’ I told myself, ‘just wanted to make sure Balgruuf and I made it over to Windhelm safely.’

Ulfric told me he wanted to try to work together with Hammerfell and High Rock. Hammerfell is a country to the southwest & High Rock is a country to the west of Skyrim. I mentioned that High Rock might still have an allegiance with the Empire. The Empire apparently rules out of Cyrodiil, a country to the south. Skyrim promised to help the Empire fight off the Aldmeri Dominion at Cyrodiil’s southern borders, though Skyrim has seen enough loss already. 

While most of the men and women under Ulfric’s banner were celebrating- at the realization that I’m probably next for the throne, or the Moot’s victory- I did not know why. I realized not many people within Skyrim’s now stable borders have never left the country. Though I was a born native of Skyrim, I spent the vast majority of it elsewhere. I thought where I was raised was my home, until I moved to Skyrim. I gained friends that I never would have without leaving. All of this made the country seem so familiar, yet so distant. 

I soon realized that I was born in Windhelm; my mother must have thought Winterhold was too small. The Palace of Kings in Windhelm was where I saw my first few moments (or maybe days) of life. I did not see the Palace of Kings for almost 28 years.

I limped my way over to Ulfric and began to yawn. Ulfric noticed I was yawning, and told me to get some rest. 

“You sure about that, Ulfric? I’ve only been outside- here- for an hour! I don’t like being cooped up as someone’s prized pet!” I retorted, “I haven’t been outside in what feels like days. I’d rather stay out for an extra few minutes than be cooped up like a chicken.”

“Alright, Clive, have it your way,” Ulfric said, patting my shoulder, “go find where that friend of yours went, would you?”  
After a brief moment of thinking, I nervously said, “He went back to Whiterun.”

I walked inside Castle Dour to find a cat-man, called Khajiit sitting on a bench. I walked up to him. He looked at me with crazy eyes.

“You want some _**skooma**_ , kid?” he asked, voice sounded drunk and his words slurred, “it tastes so _good_.”

“No… thanks. I’m gonna have to refuse,” I said, “skooma seems like the kind of drink I don’t want to drink.”

“You want some _moon sugar_ , then?” he slurred, “it’ll help you with that injured leg of *hic* yours.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine without your moon sugar and skooma, _Khajiit_ ,” I growled, “and don’t offer me anything again! I'll get you arrested by one of the hold guards!”

I walked up to one of the guards outside soon after, and told him about the drunk Khajiit inside. The guard thanked me, and I soon ended up seeing the Khajiit head towards the city's prisons. He'll be there for a while.

I made my way up the stairs to sit on the bed I used for so many nights. I want to know about the divines here in Skyrim. The urge to explore and learn was great, so I figured I would tell Ulfric once I got up. 

I couldn’t sleep. I started reading books on the divines, but there was only 8. Ulfric told me that there are nine, and that’s what he fought to let all Nords believe. A book on this ninth divine was impossible to come by, so I planned to ask Ulfric where I could get information on this ninth.

I finally fell asleep as the sun began to shine through the windows. I left a stack of books by the bed, knowing that I would not be able to return them to their proper homes.

I slept for an entire day. Ulfric had to return the books for me, and Galmar was told to check on me every few hours. I asked if I could somehow go and figure out more about this ninth divine that was being brought up. Everyone kept claiming that he (the divine) was the reason Ulfric had found me after so long. This especially happened when I walked out after eating this morning. 

I started swinging Falchion around wildly at the training dummy. I jabbed the sword in several times. Some of the Stormcloak men and women were watching as I practiced. Ulfric, who I have now to come to accept as my father, told them to stop. I was intent on trying to teach myself something that I hadn't learned before. Though I couldn't figure it out, I immediately set to shoot my sword up into the air. When the sword was almost fully near the ground, I jumped up and slashed it at the dummy.

Ulfric walked up to me. I immediately stopped and turned to face him as I saw him coming closer over my shoulder.

"I was looking for you, actually," he told me, "you never heard about the ninth divine Talos, have you?"

I shoved my sword into the ground, saying, "no. I wish I knew more information about him, but all the books I've read mention eight. I guess you're going to tell me to go somewhere to find this information."

"Go to Whiterun, and meet with Heimskr. He is usually near Jorrvaskr praising Talos during the day. Says that Talos does all these great things. Talos founded the Empire when the Septim dynasty started at the beginning of the Third Era. I’m sure the Companions, or even Jarl Balgruuf would be open to having you for a night or two. Just make it back once you’re done gathering this info, ok?”

"Haha, yeah, I'll do that," I laughed.

My horse was outside the Solitude gates, presumably for easy access. I quickly mounted, and started to make my way toward Whiterun. 

The scenery on the way to Whiterun had me impressed. Trees and flowers would line the pathway until it opened up to a field. This field was surrounded by mountains, which made it even more pretty. Flowers would still litter the landscape. Rivers and lakes would occasionally dot the landside.

I managed to make my way through a couple of settlements on my way over to Whiterun. One was named Dragon’s Bridge. This settlement was named after the bridge with dragon-like sculptures on it nearby. The bridge went over a canyon with a river down at the bottom. Surely I did not want to fall to my death. Dragon’s Bridge was small, which meant I didn’t want to stay long. The townsfolk were incredibly nice to me, and offered to let me stay for the night. I politely refused, because I was not accustomed to such hospitality. I also did not know how to properly act towards them, since I had been raised elsewhere. 

I encountered a Khajiit caravan soon after I left Dragon’s Bridge. It was late, and they were setting up for the night. I pushed my horse to move onwards, though he got spooked. Supposedly, they were trying to sell their goods across all of Skyrim. I was incredibly hesitant to start asking them questions about the dragons. 

“Do you guys know anything about the dragons?” I asked, looking at them nervously. 

“Khajiit does not know anything about the dragons, though Khajiit has seen one northwest of Whiterun.”

“Alright, thanks,” I said, remounting my horse.

Though the interaction was really basic, but I felt like I knew a tiny fraction of the population better. While I travelled a short distance, beautiful colors began to light up the sky. I slowed down my horse’s movements to look at the lights in the sky. They mesmerized me, honestly. I could have spent all night up looking at the sky, though I knew that’d be of no use to me. Shortly after stopping, I found an abandoned lodge which I thought I could stay in for the night. 


End file.
